179

The old pig-home. In the snow [it's not pig-dandruff!].

The Croft was there - as it always is. The Crofter was directing affairs moving grit or something from over there [I'm waving to my left] to there [pointing now]. They, The Crofters have already moved big grit stuff from yours-truely [twas left over after filling a hole with it. The hole which we dug. Well, when I say 'we', I actually mean Eve and my pal Victor - obviously. Thinking of Vic, I do hope he's ok as he is in NZ at present. He is, just been given the nod].

The thing is the old pig home is being renovated. New floor and everything. And the picture above - the neg of which surfaced today from my 'filing' - it was behind the pooter on the floor, after I had reconfigure the spaghetti that is the wiring of the pooter bits - the picture above of of the old pig-house with Mr Crofter modelling the fine features of the design - one of which wasn't the floor. Some while back.

178

Its freezing. The leci was off this morning while the Hydro twisted a few cable ends together or something and I froze. The wind cut right through me as I strolled to The Croft. And came back again before seeing the great man. I shall go again later. Reminded me of earlier in the year when the snow was about and I had a roll of colour film to play with. The sheeps hated that and hid their faces under the silage. And who can blame them. B&W is much better

177

The Crofter sporting his latest hair-style

Paddle-Duck.

Many apologies for the lack of service.

One thing and another has conspired against me. Work for one, a film development disaster for another [I blame work !] and the impending disaster of the thinning out of the pig-stock. And the subsequent filling of the freezer if you know what I mean. I may be a conciousness photographiser, but snapping the slaughter of an animal is not on my agenda. Or eating them for that matter.

I shall gloss over that little matter, mention the all pervasive aroma of the 'lawn' at the moment and post a nice snap of a duck enjoying life.

176

I came across Mr Crofter and his pater playing at building the other day. What's all that about then?

175

Mr Crofter has gone to town to celebrate something or other with someone or other from the village. No doubt Mr Crofter will visit an establishment or two and drink a lemonade or two as well. The town in question is Stornoway and it's well known for it's late night lemonade fuelled street dancing. Here we can see Mr Crofter practising a move or three in The Croft house.

On the crofting front, the land-rover has been reunited with its bonnet - albeit rather more wrinkled than Land-Rover meant it to be, The little pigs are back in their usual house after sulking for a couple of days down on the lower slopes of the croft - refusing even to look at the accommodation there and not eating either!

Moves are afoot to re-locate Mr Crofter's laboratory where he makes his money. Having acquired some thrown out lab furniture from town, Mr Crofter presented me with one item he sourced especially for me - and the enlarger sits atop it perfectly. Much appreciated Mr Crofter.

174

Yeeeha mhath

I love a good roundup me. Fond memories of 2010 and The Visit of the Vet and all that. Hyacinth playing tricks on Mr Crofter, Mr Crofter saying ‘bother’ and everything plus Ms Vet enjoying herself. What more can one ask?

The thing was, the little piggies – although not quite as little as they previously were, need to be moved from their bijou residence in the ‘ex-lawn’ area to the more extensive expanses of the wild west [ish], namely, the old veg patch towards the bottom of the croft.

As soon as the brave Mr Crofter opened the piggies door they were out bounding around the place and ready for a bit of fun. I might add here that it wasn’t fun that The Crofter had in mind. Nevertheless, in no time the little ones were soon following The Great Man down the muddy path past the ducks who fled, quickly. Down past the polytunnel, past the muck heap and into.....

Oh no, they came back again. The thought of being out there on the mud had no draw to these fellas despite the stupendous views over The Minch. A fair bit of encouragement ensued by Mum and Dad Crofter, - arm waving, shouting – that sort of thing. Did no good of course. Well not until they had rooted up a good morsel or two. But, as often happens, eventually the piggies were ensconced into the new quarters. Hyacinth, Tinga, Spartacus and Diogenes all came to have a look, cast their seal of approval and to see if there was any food for them.

Another exciting morning was soon over.

173

Oh bother. Where's the bonnet gone?

The storm came and eventually went. The Croft had a little minor destruction to cope with in the morning. Strewn along the path was the cut wood from the wood store, fences over, gates ripped off and look, there's no bonnet on the Land-Rover. The animals were all fine - chickens having been nailed in to their homes overnight by Dad Crofter. The poly-tunnel survived too - which I'm sure was a great relief to the ducks.

On the other hand, my Olympus camera I was using packed up!

172

Hyacinth and chums get a feed

I visited The Crofter this morning all fresh faced and keen to snap. "Morning" the Crofter announced as I stood in something soft and smelly. Mr Crofter was busily tying things down, feeding the beasts and whispering sweet nothings in their ears to prepare them for the wind to come. He briefed the ducks especially since they have been billeted in the poly-tunnel of late and that's a tad vulnerable in heavy breezes. I wonder if its still standing now since the gale is with us and blows hard and long.